


Snapshots

by dramatic owl (snarky_panda)



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarky_panda/pseuds/dramatic%20owl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shots originally written for the ha_prompts Community at LiveJournal. Ongoing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wallpaper

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett. I make no money from this fanwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character: Miriam Pataki  
> Prompt: coffee getting cold

Looking at the mid-aged blonde sitting alone in the kitchen, one would never imagine that this woman was a rodeo champion as a young girl. Active and enthusiastic she ran, climbed trees, hiked to the tops of hills. Summers were spent outdoors in camp, where she learned to ride horses and lasso bulls. She had hopes and dreams and boundless energy.

Like many of her classmates she went on to college, majoring in political science with a minor in French, the diplomatic language. Junior year was spent living and studying in Paris. She was a good leader, her teachers had always remarked. Creative, with a bright spark that burned in her like no other, she stood out among her classmates. She was someone who would make a difference in the world.

One wouldn’t guess any of that when observing this woman hunched over the table, a mug of coffee in front of her. Black, no sugar, for she requires it to be as strong as possible. It gives her some impetus to continue on with a grey life shrouded in gloom and enables her to somewhat collect her scattered thoughts. Her beverage of choice is already getting cold but she gulps it desperately, as if she were drinking in badly-needed oxygen.

Everything makes her tired and sad, and, as much as she would be ashamed to admit if ever asked, she passes more time sleeping than doing anything else, often hiding behind the couch so her family won’t see. Not that it would matter. The Pataki family is very good at pretending that there isn’t something seriously wrong in their household.

With her husband at work and her daughter in school, the rest of her days are spent attempting, unsuccessfully, to keep the house in order. It’s clean enough but she constantly loses things, absently picking objects up and carrying them to another place where she promptly forgets about them until Helga or Big Bob are screaming for them.

She’d always had an excellent memory and it was uncharacteristic for her to lose things. Why had that all slipped away?

Big Bob barely gives her a thought, she knows. He’s busy running his beeper empire and he takes her presence for granted, someone that should know where his shaving cream is, where his favorite belt is, what his favorite meal is. Invisible, soulless, more like wallpaper than a wife.

Helga considers her worthless as a mother, and she knows that she is. She sees the constant scowl, always in place on Helga’s visage and she knows that the girl is angry and unhappy. Often she yells at her, calling her ‘Miriam’ instead of ‘Mom’ and Miriam can’t seem to even form a coherent sentence to answer the young daughter that she doesn’t understand. It all makes her sad, but she’s too tired to try to change it and it’s just too overwhelming.

Things had been different when Olga lived at home. Their first daughter was vibrant and energetic; her spirit contagious. Miriam manages to brighten on the occasions when she comes home from school; Olga takes on a lot of the work, rising early, cooking breakfast. She finds her mood and energy lifted, infected by her eldest daughter’s exuberance. Able to focus on Olga’s accomplishments she is taken out of herself if only temporarily.

The large glasses cover a pale, drawn, tired face and cloudy blue eyes. Upon closer look, one can see that she’s really quite attractive beneath it all. Somewhere inside there is still a spark of the brilliant, promising girl that she was. And every once in awhile it peeps through. On a road trip with her youngest daughter she wins a mechanical bull-riding contest in a bar in the middle of nowhere. When Big Bob throws his back out, she enthusiastically takes over his beeper empire and runs it better than he does. During those days she’s organized, sharp and on top of everything. Filled with new-found gumption, she dresses impeccably, pulling out suits that she used to wear that miraculously still fit her. She even manages to be a good mother to Helga for a change, making well-balanced lunches for her, spending time together even when her daughter is busy doing homework while she crunches numbers on the laptop. Once again, she finds herself able to tap into boundless energy.

Eventually she slips because doing everything, having a job, raising a daughter, is too much. And for awhile after she gives up working and Bob returns to his beeper empire, she still has the inspiration, channeling it into mothering her youngest daughter. And for awhile things are better. Eventually, though, the energy seeps out of her again, and she becomes lethargic and melancholy.

Wincing absent-mindedly she swallows the last gulp of coffee, now ice cold, then stands up and shuffles to the sink where she deposits the empty mug. She drags herself listlessly to the living room and looks around. There’s a lot to do today. The house needs to be vacuumed, the laundry needs to be done and she needs to go grocery shopping, among other myriad chores.

Without thinking she turns on the television; she doesn’t like it when the house is too quiet, and even when she’s not watching it, the noise is comforting. She doesn’t feel like going out just yet. It’s still early and she can go in the afternoon. Her eye falls on the couch and she crosses to it, wearily flopping down onto it and staring numbly at the flickering screen.

Yes, everything can be done later.


	2. Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after the episode _Olga Comes Home_. Helga and Olga spend the day together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character(s): Helga Pataki, Olga Pataki  
> Prompt: cheer me on

She’d expected this day to be somewhat trying. Her older sister was twice her age, and they had completely different interests and viewpoints. If they had been in the same grade and Olga hadn’t been related to her, chances were she would never have chosen her as a friend. Not that she had any _real_ friends anyway, other than Phoebe.

Then there was the resentment and jealousy that would always hover between them like a thick heavy curtain. Olga was pretty and smart and accomplished. Big Bob and Miriam always took such pride in everything she did, cheering her on all the time. The day her big sister came home for spring break she’d played the piano for the family, one of the many pieces in her repertoire; Helga had to suppress a bitter snort as Big Bob rose to his feet applauding and yelling, “Bravo!”

Helga knew she would never make her parents proud of her the way they were proud of her older sister. She would live in Olga’s shadow always until the day she was grown up and could finally leave home.

But she’d discovered some things in the past twenty-four hours. And for this one day she tried to keep her sour attitude and sarcastic comments in check; for her sister had surprised her. Despite the cruelty of the prank she’d played, changing Olga’s college grade and sending her into a week-long state of deep depression at the thought that she hadn’t done well enough in school, her sister had announced that they would keep it between them. And she had confided that the attention she got from their parents wasn’t such a blessing after all.

 _“You don’t know what it’s like, always having to perform, like some wind up doll,”_ she had said. _“I get so sick of it. You’re lucky they don’t notice you.”_

She’d never considered that.

After that Olga had suggested that they spend the next day, today, together, just the two of them. It wasn’t something that they ever did; at least Helga didn’t recall ever spending a day out alone with her sister. But Olga surprised her once again.

Big and little sister tramped around the city together, stopping in several department stores where they browsed through racks of lovely outfits. Olga wanted to buy something for her date with Jacques Lafleur, or whatever his name was, when they went out for mocha lattes. Helga attempted to keep in the spirit of the day, trying on a couple of outfits that she’d found.

One was a lovely lavender dress, not too frilly. Plain and simple, and she liked the color. But when she put it on and stood in front of the mirror outside of the fitting rooms she scowled, wondering if she would ever be pretty like Olga. Would some foreign exchange student with a fancy name ever want to ask _her_ out for mocha lattes?

“That color looks nice on you, Baby Sis,” Olga had remarked with an encouraging smile after giving her the once-over. “You’re growing into quite a lovely young lady, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m a real beauty,” she muttered sarcastically, frowning at her reflection.

“If you want to get the dress, it’ll be my treat.”

Helga turned to her sister in surprise. “Really?”

She nodded.

“Thanks, Olga.”

When they weren’t looking at clothing they were sitting together at the makeup counters. Helga was tough and athletic. She liked sports, all sports, and she excelled at all of them. Baseball, football, street hockey. And she could hold her own just fine with the boys. She was not a girly girl, nor had it ever occurred to her to play around with makeup, the way girls like Rhonda Wellington Lloyd did.

Still, she felt grown up sitting with her big sister and trying on different colors of lipstick and blush. Sharing the same blonde hair and blue eyes, Olga guided her toward colors that would look well on her. They giggled together at times, just like sisters who were actually close.

Now, as they sat in the café sipping their drinks after a long day of tackling the stores, café au lait for Olga and hot cocoa for her, Helga felt somewhat heartened. Though she knew that she would never completely bond with her big sister, and they would never really be close, it hadn’t been a bad day and she’d actually had some fun. In the past day she had discovered that Olga was really okay in some ways.


	3. Badlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helga-centric future fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character: Helga Pataki  
> Prompt: on the road again

In twenty-four hours he would be getting married. Arnold, the boy that she’d obsessed over through all of her childhood, ever since she was in preschool, was tying the knot. It was going to be an evening wedding, a black tie affair held at one of the city’s catering halls. Black tie and tails for the men, gowns for the women. The newlyweds would be returning to the boarding house after their honeymoon, she’d heard. Arnold had renovated it almost single-handedly after his grandparents had passed on, and the couple had apparently agreed with each other that this neighborhood would be a great one to raise children in.

Perched on the front hood of her car, she sighed ruefully and gazed up at the stars, debating whether to stick around for one more night or just leave. Coming home during this trip had been a mistake; she should have realized it would be and driven straight on to South Dakota and the Badlands.

Phoebe was the one to break the news to her when they met in town, trepidation in her demeanor as she dropped the bombshell. Though they hadn’t ever spoken of it, Helga knew that her childhood friend had long ago figured out the truth about how she’d felt about Arnold, at least as far back as when they were nine years old.

There was a time when seeing him made a lonely, grey and disappointing life worth living. Filling book after book with poems about him, building likenesses of him in her closet, all this kept her occupied and prevented her from thinking about the more depressing things in her life.

When she entered high school something changed inside of her. She became involved with a new group of kids. She still filled book after book with poems and writings, an outlet for the strong, deep emotions inside of her that needed to get out somehow. But she had begun to notice, and fancy, other boys, and little by little the feeling that Arnold was the only one she could ever be with faded. They became friends sort of, talking easily when their paths crossed or when they had classes together. The fighting and bitterness had left her.

 _It shouldn’t matter anymore_.

Helga took a deep breath and attempted to push aside an emptiness inside of her that made her heart ache. After so much time, why was news of his impending marriage affecting her in this way?

She’d had her share of boyfriends at this point. Granted, her relationships, for lack of a better word, never lasted for very long. A big part of that was her fault, she knew. She always made foolish choices and, afraid of being rejected and hurt, she became mean and defensive, lashing out at her lovers first, leaving them before they had a chance to do it to her. But then she’d always been that way; it was how she’d learned to be strong in the world and not get hurt.

Just one more night here, she pondered. She could meet with Phoebe again if her friend was free. After all they didn’t get to see each other very much even though they’d kept in touch through college and beyond. Then tomorrow evening she could walk by the catering hall, see if she could get a glimpse of Arnold. It had been a few years since she’d seen him. She wondered if he looked the same. And she couldn’t help but be curious; who had won his heart?

Seeing would answer her questions, but she feared that it would also stir emotions that she didn’t want to feel just yet, not when she was in such close proximity to her childhood home, to him. Besides, she wasn’t that nine-year-old girl anymore. No longer did she lurk in the shadows, secretly watching a boy that captured her mind and soul.

Her mind made up, she slid off of the car and landed softly on sneakered feet. Reaching into the pocket of her denim jacket and withdrawing the car keys she took one last look up and down the block where she had played stickball and touch football with Arnold and the gang. Then she opened the door and slid into the driver side of the car.

As she slammed the door and gazed through the front window she started as she glimpsed a familiar silhouette.

_Arnold?_

The figure stood on the top stoop in front of one of the brownstones along this street. She sat frozen, breath held, watching. It wasn’t the boarding house that he stood in front of; she didn’t know who lived in that building. Maybe someone who was throwing him a bachelor party. Or his fiancé.

Looking down quickly, she eased the key into the ignition and started the car. As she shifted the gear into drive and looked to see if there was traffic coming she saw out of the corner of her eye that the figure still stood outside. She switched on the radio, turning up the volume so that the gritty rock music blared inside the car. Pulling out and making an easy U-turn she drove off in the other direction.

Her mood lifted somewhat as she left the city limits behind and the image of the familiar silhouette that she’d seen faded from her mind. And when she reached the Interstate and pressed the gas pedal into the floor, her spirits soared.

She was free again.


	4. Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during the ending part of the episode _Helga on the Couch_. Brainy has a gift for Helga.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character(s): Brainy, Helga Pataki  
> Prompt: now or never

There she was.

She was actually smiling, and for a change she looked genuinely happy as she leaned against the wall and pulled out the locket that she wore around her neck. He liked it when she smiled.

From the archway in the alley Brainy observed her as she gazed at the picture inside the locket and began to passionately speak flowery, emotional poetry like she always did. She had such a way with words; he couldn’t speak with even an eighth of the eloquence that she possessed. Usually his presence just annoyed her and she ended up socking him. He’d come to enjoy that little bit of attention from her, even if it was painful.

Ever since the first time he laid eyes on her in preschool he was drawn to the feisty little girl with blonde pigtails and a pink bow. Fierce, tough, she terrified everyone when she walked through the halls, announcing her presence with loud authority and daring anyone to defy her.

Despite his nickname he didn’t consider himself very bright, and neither did anyone else. In reality, he was considered rather odd. He certainly wasn’t smart enough for her; she was amazing. Awkward and shy, he never knew what to say to most people, especially her, and he’d had bad asthma all of his life, which made him wary of exerting himself too much. All that left him lurking in the shadows, fading into the background and barely noticed, even when he stood out in the open with the others.

But she noticed him. And now was the time to finally approach her. Today she was in a good mood and he had a gift for her. A ring with a fake translucent stone that had a pinkish tint to it that he’d gotten out of the gumball machine. Her favorite color, the one she wore everyday. Placing it inside an empty, transparent salt shaker that he carried around in the event that he found a silkworm or something else that he wanted to collect, he’d been waiting for an opportunity to give it to her.

She whirled around as he stepped out of the archway behind her. Theatrically he held the gift up to show her then placed it in her hand, the one she usually punched him with.

Helga stared at it for a moment then tossed it away.

“Look, Brainy, this is just weird. How is it that you’re behind me again? How did you get inside this arch? Were you waiting for me in this alleyway? What’s your deal?”

As usual she left him speechless and he just stared at her.

After a moment she put an arm around his shoulder and began to lead him out of the alleyway toward the street, speaking to him in a patient voice.

“Okay, I’m not going to hit you this time,” she told him, a gracious smile on her face. “This one’s for free. Today I’m feeling generous. But tomorrow? Look out.”

She patted his cheek as she said that last sentence then turned and marched off down the street determinedly, head held high.

He smiled as he watched her go and his own hand involuntarily went up to cover that part of skin where her hand had been, savoring the feel of her fleeting touch.


	5. An Amazing Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helga’s life took an unexpected turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character(s): Helga Pataki, Gerald Johanssen  
> Prompt: left behind

A long time ago, in the fourth grade, there was nothing she wanted more than to spend her life with Arnold. In her vision, they were soul mates and would travel around the world together before they settled down to a life of marital bliss. Of course she couldn’t let him know it then. Her love for him was her deepest, most personal secret, so much so that she’d tormented and bullied him to convince him that the opposite was true.

So, it was with irony and amusement that she looked back on those days as she sipped her galão at an outdoor café table on the pedestrian walkway Rua dos Correeiros and wrote in her notebook. Lisbon was the last stop on a year-long trip around the world before returning home and a time of her life that she would never forget. Arnold, who she considered a dear friend now, wasn’t with her; he was back at home. He’d always felt connected to their neighborhood and had decided to stay there to ensure that nothing bad happened to it, that the nostalgia and history of the place was preserved.

 _Same naïve, optimistic old football head_ , she thought with a wry smile.

When she returned to the states she would peruse the pink notebooks full of her thoughts and impressions and experiences of the whirlwind trip. Writing was one of her many talents; maybe the narratives in her multi-volume journal could be pulled together into a travel essay book. After all, it was full of colorful characters that they’d met along the way and exciting adventures. Even the bad experiences had lessons to offer.

She’d been sending them home as she filled them up and buying new blank ones; the pink notebook that she wrote in now was number twenty.

Helga looked up from her writing and glanced at her companion, who sat on the other side of the table sipping his own galão and watching the passersby. Gerald had been the perfect travel partner. Affable and easy-going as he’d always been, he made friends effortlessly wherever he went and was a natural at picking up languages. His presence allowed her to pass safely in countries where foreign women that traveled alone were looked upon strangely, and blonde women were looked upon as if they were a valuable commodity. And his open, amiable and social nature granted them entry into the lives of the people who dwelled in the countries they visited.

Locals opened up to him, invited them into their homes, to meet their families. Joining in a backgammon game with the local men in a village in eastern Turkey, sharing a hookah pipe of tobacco and apple and spices in the Middle East, or watching a soccer game with a group of Portuguese fans in a bar, Gerald embraced what was unique to each culture and the people they met appreciated it. If she’d searched far and wide, she couldn’t have found a more perfect companion. He was as eager as she was to try new things and his gregarious personality opened doors for her that wouldn’t have necessarily been open had she traveled alone.

And yet they allowed each other personal space. Traveling together for so long, they required time apart so they wouldn’t tire of one another. So comfortable was their relationship that either of them could suggest time alone and space from each other, and the other wouldn’t be offended. She enjoyed his company immensely, but she didn’t depend on him; she also valued Helga time.

“You know, I’m gonna miss traveling,” he spoke up as she finished writing and closed her notebook. “Even if I am glad to be going home.”

“Yeah, me too. Being home is going to seem very dull.”

“Of course, I’ll be occupied. Looking for a job, and…I think I’ll take your advice.”

“About?”

“The book. I don’t have the same skill at writing as you, of course.”

“Just write the way you speak. You have your own way of telling the stories that’s unique. It’s what made you the esteemed keeper of the urban tales. Who better to compile them all into a bestselling book? Besides, you’ll have a very tough editor looking it over for you,” she added, pointing to herself.

He grinned. “The toughest. We’re both gonna be busy working on our books. How many notebooks have you filled now?”

“This is number twenty,” she told him, indicating the latest journal. “It’ll take time to edit all of it into something publishable. And then it needs to be accepted by a publisher. But it’s worth a shot.”

“Definitely.”

With a grin she picked up her glass and drained the rest of her coffee.

Who would ever have thought that Gerald Johanssen, Arnold’s best friend, would turn out to be her soul mate?


	6. Garden Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helga is the only girl not invited to Rhonda’s latest party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character: Helga Pataki  
> Prompt: garden

Helga scowled as she glimpsed her best friend walking down the street, joining the rest of the girls from their class. They were all dressed in pastel-colored, frilly summer dresses and matching sun hats, giggling together as they went.

All the girls in class had been invited to the party in the rooftop garden of the Lloyd townhouse; except for her.

“A garden party,” she scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest defiantly. “Who ever heard of nine-year-olds having garden parties?”

She felt a little betrayed by Phoebe though, who’d opted to join the others rather than hang back with her best friend.

Her classmates disappeared around the corner. Confident that she wouldn’t be seen now, Helga descended the steps of her front stoop and headed toward the dumpster where the neighborhood kids threw rocks all the time. It was something to do on this day when she was left alone, and she found that it helped to alleviate her anger.

Big Bob had left early to run his Saturday errands and wouldn’t be back until dinnertime probably. Miriam would no doubt spend the day in bed. Helga had practically run out the door in an effort to escape the gloom of that house.

Picking up a palm-sized rock, she hurled it furiously at the large metal bin, feeling somewhat satisfied with the loud clang it made. She leaned down and scooped up another large rock.

“As if I’d want to get dressed up like some kind of frilly doll and have tea with Princess and her prissy friends,” she snorted as she heaved it at the dumpster.

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd had been born into privilege and her attitude, her dress, everything about her exuded that. And, at the young age of nine, she was already too pretentious for her own good, imitating adult socialites with her garden parties and gatherings for the ‘select’.

Only everyone had been selected except her.

For a moment she paused, an empty ache pervading her as she let that thought linger in the forefront of her mind. Then she scooped up a handful of rocks and continued to pelt them one by one in a steady rhythm against the metal can.


	7. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the episode _Student Teacher_. Olga doesn’t understand what went wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character: Olga Pataki  
> Prompt: seashell

Pulling her parka tighter around her shuddering body, she picked up the pen and began writing the letter to her little sister while her small class of students worked independently on their exercises. It had always been her desire to make a difference in the world, to help those who were less fortunate than herself. That was one of the reasons she considered the idea of coming here to teach poor and underprivileged Inuit children.

Her original plan was to volunteer at her sister’s school this time around and teach Inuit children later on, after she’d graduated. She and her little sister had never been close, and it made her sad. It was her hope that maybe if they spent a lot of time together they would bond and have a more sisterly relationship. But Helga hadn’t wanted her there, and what she thought would be a great bonding experience had only made her sister resent and hate her more.

So here she was, freezing her buns off in an igloo in Alaska. God, it was so cold in this place. What she wouldn’t give to be in a warm place at the beach right now.

The Pataki family had spent almost every summer at the beach when she was growing up. It wasn’t far from the city, about an hour’s drive away. They always rented the same cabin and she remembered playing in the ocean with her mother and father, building sand castles while they lounged on a blanket sunning themselves, collecting seashells.

It was even more fun when her little sister was there. Olga was eleven when she was born. When Helga was still small, not quite a toddler, their mother kept her on the blanket, afraid that the rambunctious and curious baby would crawl after her big sister and into the ocean. Olga returned to the blanket a lot to play with her. And when Helga began to walk and talk, they collected shells together, picking out the perfect-shaped, shiniest shells they could find.

“If you hold it to your ear like this, you can hear the ocean inside of it,” she told her four-year-old sister one day.

Olga held the large pink seashell against her ear in a demonstration, then lowered it and held it out to Helga.

“Pretty.”

“It is. And listen.”

She gently placed the opening of the shell against Helga’s ear.

“Hear the waves inside?”

A perplexed look crossed the little girl’s features for a moment, but then Helga smiled and nodded.

“Can I have it?”

“Of course. It’ll look pretty on your dresser in your room.”

Those times had been fun. Of course Helga was much younger than her, just a very little girl at the time who looked up to her big sister. They had very little in common though.

Tears welled up in Olga’s eyes as she continued writing her letter, telling Helga about how much she enjoyed teaching the Inuit children, conveying the upbeat and cheerful attitude that her family always expected from her. But this time she didn’t leave it at that.

 _I still don’t understand what happened between us_ , she wrote. _But all I know is that I miss you terribly, Baby Sister. Write soon. Love, love, love, more love, Olga._


	8. Words Fail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helga deals with an aging parent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character(s): Helga Pataki, Bob Pataki, Olga Pataki, Arnold  
> Prompt: words fail you

Earlier, when they found him on the floor in the living room, conscious but in a state of mental confusion, he’d been slurring his words.

“This isn’t the first time he’s fallen either,” Olga told the paramedics when they arrived and began to examine him, testing the strength in his arms to see if he had weakness on one side, asking him questions to check if he was oriented.

“He’s got strength in his hands and arms on both sides and he’s oriented,” one of the men told them. “But he should still go to the hospital so they can rule out a stroke.”

Olga rode in the ambulance with their father while Helga followed in her car.

Now she just wanted to get out of that room. Sterile, white, stark, filled with Olga’s loud sobbing and the sight of Big Bob lying in the hospital bed. As her gaze took in the aged, frail form all she could think of was the father she knew long ago, a large, sturdy man who threw his weight around with confidence and loudly ordered everyone around. Torn up with bitterness at that time, she angrily referred to him as a blowhard.

Helga folded her arms and scowled. The image before her now was so different, so dissonant with her memories.

It wasn’t a full-blown stroke, the doctors said. They believed it might have been what they called a _transient ischemic attack_ or a _TIA_. A fancy acronym that described a ‘mini-stroke’. These usually preceded the real thing if not treated.

What scared her more than the mention of the word _stroke_ , though that terrified her, was seeing Big Bob, a man who had an answer for everything, try to speak and fail to even come up with words. She wasn’t sure if he couldn’t think of them or if there was actually a breakdown of the mechanism between his brain and his voice. But something wasn’t right.

Maybe he would survive this, but would the damage be permanent? Would he struggle to speak for the rest of the time he had? Would he recognize his children? She’d never been close with him, but faced with the prospect of losing him, in one way or another, an odd sensation permeated her, making her uneasy.

Visiting hours came to an end and Helga bid her father goodnight, standing beside the bed and giving his hand a firm squeeze. She never had been comfortable running over and throwing her arms around him, pecking him on the cheek the way Olga always did, calling him Daddy.

As she left the room, she breathed a sigh of relief and strode out to the reception area to wait for her older sister, who lingered over Big Bob.

“Arnold,” she murmured, her lips turning up into a small smile as she glimpsed her husband sitting in one of the chairs in the reception area.

“I came as soon as I got your message.” He rose to his feet and stepped toward her. “How is he?”

Helga shrugged. “They’re still trying to figure out what it is. A neurologist is going to examine him tomorrow morning. He doesn’t have all of the symptoms of a stroke, but he has some, so they think it might be a mini-stroke. He’s also had a bad cold so they want to rule out a severe infection.”

He slipped a supportive arm around her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

She leaned her head against his shoulder and nodded. It would be too difficult to put what she felt into words, even to him, and she wasn’t even sure she knew her own emotions right now.

But Arnold had always possessed an uncanny capacity to see beyond her words anyway.


End file.
